To break the ice.

Those walls that you have put up around yourself, the ones that keep you from maybe getting hurt again, they work both ways you know. They keep the big scary monsters outside, but they also keep you inside, a prisoner of your own creation. And that loneliness you feel, it's an illusion. It's a crutch that keeps you on the edge but lets you run away and hide, or break things that are tenuous and gentle with your ferocity, because you want to test the bonds before they're fully formed saying "look at my fury, can you withstand the pain, because it can get ugly in here".

Because you're not the only one with walls, you know. And sometimes when you feel gentle and things are going well, you send out your own tendrils, only to find them engulfed in rage from somebody else's fury.

It's never what it seems.